


5 times Alec changed himself for others (+1 time he didn't have to)

by HopeSilverheart



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: (only at the end though oops), 5+1 Things, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief Alec/Lydia, Fluff, Immortal Husbands, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Lightwood Siblings Feels, M/M, Mention of conversion therapy (very briefly), Timeline What Timeline, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeSilverheart/pseuds/HopeSilverheart
Summary: Alec would do anything to please his family: go out, drink, dance, change himself completely. As long as they're happy, he's willing to do it all. Thankfully, he (slowly) learns that they'll love him even if he isn't perfect.Or: 5 times Alec loved his family enough to change for them, and one time he was loved enough not to have to change at all.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & Maryse Lightwood, Alec Lightwood & Max Lightwood, Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 31
Kudos: 262
Collections: Malace 101





	5 times Alec changed himself for others (+1 time he didn't have to)

**Author's Note:**

> Heya guys! 
> 
> This fic is based on a conversation that we had on the Malec discord about having more stories that centered around Alec refusing to change himself for others. I kind of went in the opposite direction with this, but he gets there eventually!
> 
> Hope you enjoy ^^

  1. _Isabelle_



“Please, Alec, just _once_.”

Isabelle’s voice was whiny, pleading, basically _begging_ him to accept her request, and Alec… Alec was weak for his siblings. Most of the time he didn’t mind because he knew that they had his best interests at heart; that they wanted to push him out of his comfort zone and help him _discover_ things, and he appreciated their efforts. _Most of the time_.

However, he had always made sure to set his limits, to remind his siblings that he just wasn’t comfortable with some things. Clubbing had always been one of those touchy topics, because although Alec was young and handsome – according to Izzy at least – and a good dancer, he just… Didn’t like clubs.

They were always crowded, full of people he didn’t know and lingering gazes that made him feel _dirty_ and _used_ and brought forth all of his insecurities. On top of that, there were the girls who liked to throw themselves at him as soon as he stepped onto the dance floor and then _refused_ to leave him alone. Clubs made his skin crawl, made his heart lurch – and _not_ in a good way – made him feel so _small_.

He wasn’t like Izzy and Jace; where they were full of life and joy and confidence, he was just a lonely, repressed, young adult who worked all the time because it was the only thing that he knew how to do.

And maybe that’s what made him accept Izzy’s offer: the voice at the back of his mind that kept telling him to be _better_ , _stronger_ , _more like his siblings_. If his younger sister could go out dancing, then why couldn’t _he_?

He couldn’t even regret his decision, not when Izzy smiled at him delightedly, clearly excited at the thought of spending time with him outside of the Institute. So, reluctantly, he changed out of his usual shadowhunter gear and found something that could pass as a clubbing outfit. He ignored how uncomfortable he felt in the form-fitting clothes that Isabelle had bought for him a few months earlier and forced a smile onto his face as his sister dragged him all the way to Pandemonium, one of New York City’s most frequented nightclubs.

And at first, it was… It was fine. Izzy was with him, drinking and laughing and telling him another one of her outrageous stories that he – not so secretly – loved. He ignored the crowd around them, didn’t think about the sweaty men sitting a few centimetres away from him, and focused on his sister. He was here for her, after all, not for the hundreds of other people milling around the place.

But then someone asked her to dance and, after flirting for a few minutes and batting her eyelashes innocently, she giggled and accepted. She stood up, barely even looking at Alec as she weaved through the crowd effortlessly.

For a few seconds, the world stopped; his gaze was still fixed on the spot that Izzy had vacated, as though his brain couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. He had known that his sister would probably ditch him as soon as she found a partner for the night, but he hadn’t expected… Well, he wasn’t sure _what_ he had expected.

“Lost your girlfriend?”

Alec’s head snapped up at the bartender’s voice and he barely refrained from wincing at the pity in the man’s gaze. Instead, he shook his head slowly and curled his hands around the drink in front of him. It was too strong and bitter for his taste, but he was suddenly tempted to finish it and order a new one anyways, if only to forget about the wave of anxiety that threatened to crush his lungs.

 _Why_ was he so utterly unable to deny his siblings anything?

The club had been loud before, but without Isabelle, it was downright _deafening_. He felt his breaths come out in shallow puffs, felt his hands tremble and his head ache, and when his thoughts started swimming in his mind, he stood up, determined to make it out of the room as fast as possible.

He was _almost there_ , could almost feel the cool evening wind whipping at his face, could already imagine the darkness cloaking him reassuringly, but just as he was about to exit the club, he spotted Isabelle out of the corner of his eye, and his whole body came to a screeching halt.

She looked stunning, as always, and her eyes were sparkling happily, and there were people all around her, dancing and laughing and basking in his sister’s presence, but what _really_ caught Alec’s attention was the expression on her face. She looked so… _free_. A pang of longing shot through Alec’s body at a startling speed.

Raziel, he wished that he could be like her, that he could dance without worrying about the strangers surrounding him, that he could laugh like there was nothing to be afraid of, that he could flirt as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Most of the time, Alec didn’t _mind_ how different he was from his siblings, but when Isabelle looked like that? He couldn’t help but think that there was something wrong with him, for not enjoying something that clearly made everyone _else_ so happy.

Someone bumped into him, startling him out of his maudlin thoughts, and Alec suddenly remembered that he was standing in front of the exit door. He was leaving, getting away from the heavy atmosphere of the club, he was…

The image of Isabelle’s hopeful smile flashed through his brain, and Alec stepped away from the door, gritting his teeth as he turned towards the dance floor instead. His sister had taken him out because she thought that it would do him so good, that he would finally loosen up and _have fun_. He couldn’t disappoint her like that.

The mass of dancers was overwhelming, and he could feel people’s hands reaching for him, bodies trying to press closer to him, breaths mingling in the air around him. He hated it; his skin crawled, his spine tingled uncomfortably, and his hands were clenched in fists at his sides. His mind was _begging him_ to run away, to hide and never come back, to get away from the strangers, from the noise, from the nauseating smell of sweat.

But Izzy wanted this, and he would do anything for his little sister, so he let the music sweep him away for a few minutes. He let his hips sway slightly and closed his eyes to forget about the fact that he was _surrounded, unsafe, afraid_. He focused on the rhythm instead, but even that didn’t do much to distract him from the sweaty limbs crawling into his personal space.

Every second he spent on the dance floor made him want to throw up, but he clung to the memory of his sister’s easy grin and forced himself to continue moving, to continue breathing, to be _better_ for her.

He let someone take his hand, let another guide him through a few seductive steps, let himself lose track of time. He couldn’t stand to think about how _long_ he had been there, struggling to breathe and ignoring the itch to get the hell away from the strangers around him. When Izzy found him at the end of the night, dragging him out of the club with a proud smile, he forced his lips to match her happy expression.

“See, I knew you would like this!” Isabelle giggled excitedly. “Oh, I’m so glad that you’re finally doing something for yourself, Alec! We should do this more often! I promise that I’ll even dance with you next time; you weren’t half bad out there.”

 _Something for yourself_. Alec chuckled mirthlessly at his sister’s statement but nodded at her suggestion. Maybe he just needed to get used to clubbing; maybe he’d grow to love it just as Isabelle did. His parents had always told him that change was sometimes a necessary evil, and was there anything more necessary than Izzy’s approval?

So he didn’t tell his sister that he had hated every second of their night, didn’t tell her that he would rather forget about the entire experience, didn’t tell her that he felt like something was _wrong_ with him, and when she asked him to accompany her again a week later, he grimaced internally but obediently followed her to the nightclub.

He would learn to love it, for her.

* * *

  1. _Maryse_



“She’s a very nice girl, Alec.”

The man in question barely refrained from wincing at his mother’s words. He knew that she meant well, that she wanted him to find a wife and start working on a family of his own, but he _didn’t_. He had foolishly believed that if he worked hard enough, fought well enough, exceeded his parents’ expectations, they would forget about his painful lack of significant other.

He’d thought that he had succeeded; that his parents would never bring up the fact that he had never dated anyone and would let him live his life alone. He had always known that he would never find love, gay shadowhunters knew better than to broadcast their preferences, but he had hoped for… peace, perhaps?

He would never love a woman – he had come to terms with that, even though he didn’t _like_ it – and he didn’t know if he could _fake_ something like attraction. Izzy could, and Jace could, but Alec? He had always been blunt to a fault, and he knew he was a _terrible_ liar.

However, his mother looked so _hopeful_ , as though she thought that this woman she had found could truly be her son’s soulmate, the one he would love forever and have children with. And although he wasn’t as weak for his parents as he was for his siblings, he craved their approval. If this small thing could make his mother proud of him, then refusing wasn’t an option.

He spent the days leading up to his ‘date’ in a daze, trying to convince himself that if he just _focused_ hard enough, he would be able to bypass his preferences and fall for a girl. If Jace could love a girl, then why couldn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t gay after all, maybe he just hadn’t found the right person yet. Maybe this girl _would_ be his perfect match.

 _Change is a necessary evil_.

Surely, the statement applied to his current problem as well? He had heard mundanes talk about conversion therapy before, so if _they_ could change, why couldn’t he? He battled demons for a living, had survived things that would have killed most people, so he _had_ to be able to change this small thing about himself.

At the very least, he could pretend. Even if the girl ended up being horrible, even if he didn’t love her at first sight, he could lie and act and let himself fall for her with time – it _had_ to come to him eventually, right?

But then he met her, and he wasn’t so sure anymore. Lydia Branwell was a pretty girl from a respected shadowhunter family. She was hardworking, passionate, and determined to succeed. She was everything that Alec _should_ have loved, everything that he _should_ have been attracted to.

“So, why did you accept to meet with me?” The blond woman asked as they waited for their desserts. They were at some fancy restaurant that his parents had chosen; it was _way_ out of Alec’s comfort zone, but that’s what this whole date was about, wasn’t it? “You’re famous in Idris for rejecting every girl who tries to approach you, so why the sudden change?”

 _Change_. If only he could manage to alter his body’s stupid reactions and feelings. If only Lydia knew that he was so far from change that it was laughable. Oh, he could _try_ , and he would, because it was the least he could do for his parents and his family, but he wasn’t confident that he would ever _actually_ change. He _wanted_ to believe that he could, but a part of him was starting to believe that he was too weak for that – too used to dreaming about faceless men who taught him all about pleasure. 

“I don’t want to stay alone forever,” he answered instead, his heart clenching at how _true_ his words rang. “And my parents thought that you were kind and skilled, so I didn’t see the harm in trying something new.”

“Well then, I’m honoured to be your first choice,” Lydia smiled happily, and Alec’s entire body was suddenly flooded with guilt. How would his potential _girlfriend_ – the word alone felt wrong when used in the context of his love life – react if she knew that she _wasn’t_ his first choice, that she wasn’t his choice at _all_.

He didn’t, _couldn’t,_ tell her, so he simply shrugged and let her believe whatever she wanted to. If it made her happy to think that Alec wanted her _,_ then who was he to deny her such a small thing? After all, she might eventually _become_ his first choice – his wife, if his parents had any say in the matter – if he tried enough and managed to get _those_ dreams of faceless men out of his mind.

So he acted like the perfect gentleman. He took her out on a second date, then a third, then a fourth. He smiled at her, held her hand, and made sure to treat her well, to show her that he respected her deeply. He never kissed Lydia, never even _hugged_ her, but if it bothered her, she never said anything.

A month later, he had almost managed to convince himself that he _did_ love her. His mother was so _happy_ about his dates with Lydia, and Alec liked the blond woman well enough. Sure, he didn’t feel a spark when he was with her, didn’t feel like kissing her or – heaven forbid – _sleeping_ with her, but he didn’t mind her presence. That had to mean something, right?

Then he went out to a mundane coffee shop, and the _male_ barista smiled at him prettily, asked him if he was single and interested, and Alec’s heart stopped. The man had gorgeous eyes and looked at Alec like he _wanted him_ , and suddenly he couldn’t do it anymore.

He ran out of the shop, completely forgetting about his coffee, eager to get back to the safety of the Institute. It had to have been a fluke, _of course_ Alec had been flattered, he wasn’t often complimented in his line of work. But he didn’t… He couldn’t… He liked _girls_ now. He liked Lydia.

His parents were _counting on him_ to like her and show her that he would make a great husband someday. If his parents thought that he could like a girl, then he _had to_. Even Jace kept telling him that it was a good thing he was finally getting laid – not that he was, in reality – and finding love. His body, heart, and mind were _wrong_ ; he _could_ like girls, he just had to try harder.

Nevertheless, the event with the mundane boy threw him off, and he broke things off with Lydia the next day, unable to look at her without feeling like he was betraying himself. He would try again with someone else, someone who loved him as much as he loved them. That was to say, not at all. Lydia had cared too much, had been too kind, and he couldn’t have that.

His parents were disappointed, of course they were, but he told them that Lydia just hadn’t been the right person. He told _himself_ that she just hadn’t been the right person, because it was the best explanation. Better than thinking that he would _never_ love a woman; better than disappointing his family forever.

Two months later, his parents found a new girl for him to date, and he complied obediently. He smiled and talked with her, was just as kind to her as he had been to Lydia and convinced himself that he was changing for the better, that he was learning how to care for a girl the way that his heart cared for pretty boys.

It made him feel like a liar, made him feel worthless and disgusting and like he was doing something _wrong_. He told his parents that she just wasn’t the right girl. It was just a matter of time before he found the perfect person – perfect _woman_.

And maybe his heart still beat faster around handsome boys, and maybe he still lost his breath when Izzy’s male friends brushed against him as they danced, and maybe he still dreamed about chiselled jaws, strong arms, and flawless abs, but it was just his body reacting, not his mind. His mind was _changing_.

He would find a girl to love. He would make his family proud.

* * *

  1. _Jace_



“I can’t drink _alone_ , Alec.”

That was a lie, and both Jace and Alec knew it. The blond man was perfectly capable of going out alone and drowning his sorrows in alcohol without Alec at his side. After all, it wasn’t a secret that Alec didn’t drink.

Most people assumed he was just too stuck-up to try it, but truthfully, Alec just didn’t like the taste or the feelings that came with it. He had never found a drink that he actually _enjoyed_ , so he had eventually stopped looking for one, especially since he hated how _uncontrolled_ he became after a few glasses a wine – let alone anything stronger.

His siblings never really questioned it, because they respected his decisions. But apparently, Jace thought that his most recent break-up – with his hundredth uninteresting girlfriend – was reason enough to break Alec’s no-drinking rule. His brother and parabatai _knew_ that Alec would never say no to him if he pushed hard enough and, not for the first time, the older man hated that Jace refused to respect his carefully-constructed boundaries.

“Why not? It’s not like you’ll know the difference between cider and apple juice after a few rounds,” Alec sighed. “And _someone_ will have to take care of you once you’re too drunk to stand straight, so I’d really prefer to stay sober.”

“But you _always_ stay sober, Alec,” his brother rolled his eyes. “Can you not just get past your ridiculous fear of embarrassment for once and do this for me? I need the moral support.”

He didn’t, not really. Alec wasn’t sure that Jace even remembered his girlfriend’s face, let alone her name. However, his accusation had hit closer to home than Alec was comfortable with; he _did_ have a fear of embarrassment, and apparently, his brother had picked up on it. He despised how perceptive his siblings had become. They were never afraid to use his worries and insecurities against him when they thought that it would help him ‘come out of his shell’.

Alec _knew_ that part of the reason he didn’t drink was because he was afraid of humiliating himself, but why couldn’t Jace just accept that? Why couldn’t he just let him drink water and juice and whatever else piqued his fancy for the evening? It wasn’t like Alec was missing out on anything, right? He didn’t even like the _taste_ of alcohol, so why force himself to drink something he _knew_ he would hate?

But then he looked at his brother, and the answer to that last question was clear. Jace wanted him to drink, because he wanted the two of them to have something in common other than their work and their bond. And because Alec couldn’t stand to see his siblings unhappy, he gave in.

The bar Jace chose was predictably packed, full of downworlders, and uncomfortably hot. Alec started overheating the _second_ they walked into the room. If Alec hated nightclubs, bars were a close second on his list of most-disliked venues.

Especially bars with pretty women as bartenders, since that inevitably led to Jace making a pass at them and being thrown out when they had enough of his behaviour. So, when Alec spotted the girl behind the counter, he groaned internally, but also wondered if Jace could hurry up and get them kicked out so Alec wouldn’t have to drink at _all_.

By some horrifying twist of fate, the bartender seemed to actually _enjoy_ Jace’s flirting, which was both normal – because girls _flocked_ towards the golden-haired shadowhunter whenever he was off-duty – and unusual because bartenders tended to be the exception to the rule.

“How about you get something strong for my brother and I, beautiful?” Jace smirked at the woman, who smiled right back at him, obviously entranced by the blond boy’s beauty. “He’s not much of a drinker, but I’ve got hope for him yet.”

Alec grimaced slightly at the reminder of _why_ they were in a bar together but didn’t say anything. If Jace thought that he could learn to enjoy alcohol, then he would try and do exactly that. Sure, change never _really_ worked for him, but he was tired of being called _boring_ and _bland_ and _uninteresting_ just because he couldn’t find it in himself to like clubbing and drinking and girls.

All he had to do was be a little bit more like Jace; drink a few glasses, forget about his troubles, and chat with random strangers who wanted to talk to him – although those were rare, since apparently Alec could be _very_ intimidating at first glance.

“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”

Jace was grinning happily, sipping on his beer, and leaning over the bar casually to get closer to the bartender. He _truly_ seemed to be enjoying himself, and Alec couldn’t help but envy him as he struggled not to wince every time he took a sip of his drink. He was sure that the drink wasn’t _bad_ , but he just didn’t see the appeal. He was dying to order a coke and be done with it, and he _would have_ , if not for Jace’s knowing look.

He didn’t even know what he was trying to prove anymore. That he didn’t mind alcohol? That he could let loose? That he was just as manly as Jace, even if he didn’t get drunk every night? All he knew was that he had started this, and now he couldn’t back out, because Jace thought that he was actually having fun, and he didn’t want to disappoint his perfect brother.

This was probably one of those things that he just didn’t understand yet and would grow to like with time. That thought would have made him snort out loud if he were sober. How many times had he tried to convince himself that he could change only to be proven wrong? But he was already a little bit tipsy, so he continued drinking instead, determined to find the appeal in such a _repulsive_ drink.

Their first drinks were replaced, and he let himself drown in the alcohol, telling himself that _change was a necessary evil_ , as he so often did when it came to his family’s happiness. However, contrary to Jace – who seemed to be in heaven – Alec started feeling _worse_ as time passed.

The alcohol burned unpleasantly down his throat with each sip, and his mind was starting to feel too fuzzy for his liking. His gaze had grown blurry, his words were slightly slurred, and he couldn’t even remember why he had let Jace drag him to a bar. He was also pretty sure that his brother had disappeared with the bartender at some point.

 _This_ was what he hated the most, this feeling that most people seemed to find liberating – Jace certainly did, since he always told Alec that alcohol made him ‘forget about everything’ – but that he only found nerve-wracking. It made him feel like he wasn’t in control of himself anymore, and it certainly _never_ made him forget about his problems. If anything, it set him more on edge, made him overthink every single one of his actions, and put him in a foul mood.

He glared at the glass in front of him as though it had personally offended him. Raziel, what he would give for some water. But, of course, the bartender was off somewhere with Jace, so water wasn’t an option.

He thought about leaving, hell, he _wanted_ to leave, but every time he stood up, he thought about Jace’s satisfied smile and the other man’s ability to just _let go_ , and he ended up sitting back down, taking another sip of the drink that he hated but _wanted_ to like.

And when Jace lined shots up for them later that night – it could have been a few minutes or a few hours; Alec had lost track of time long before that – and glanced at Alec challengingly, the older man once again failed to deny his brother anything. He downed the drinks as quickly as possible.

He would learn to enjoy the burn, if only to see Jace smile like that as often as possible.

* * *

  1. _Max_



“Geez, Alec, you’re so _boring_ , why can’t you be more like Jace?”

Max’s words hit him hard, harder than he cared to admit. His little brother was his world, just as much as Jace and Isabelle were, and hearing him say that Alec was _uninteresting_ , _dull_ , all the things that the other shadowhunters whispered about him when they thought that he wasn’t listening… It _hurt_.

He had always known that Max preferred Jace; the blond boy was more fun, more open, easier to talk to, less likely to snap or chide, but to hear it being confirmed in such a matter-of-fact way was like a punch straight to the heart.

And to think that this was all because of his stupid birthday. It wasn’t like the day meant much to him; he usually blew out his candles with his siblings, accepted their gifts and congratulations, and let time pass insignificantly. He didn’t _do_ parties, and he certainly didn’t do _birthday bashes_ or whatever it was that Max had in mind.

Because apparently, Max thought that Alec’s unwillingness to throw a party reflected badly on their whole family. He thought that his friends would make fun of him for having a boring brother, or that the other shadowhunters would look down on the Lightwoods for not _all_ being as extroverted as Isabelle and Jace were – which wasn’t completely _untrue_ , but Max shouldn’t have known about that.

Honestly, Alec didn’t know where this was coming from. Max wasn’t exactly the most open kid and he had never had a birthday party either, so Alec wasn’t aware that this was even something that _bothered_ the other boy. Deep down, he had even hoped that this meant Max was a little bit more like him, and a little bit less like their reckless, outgoing siblings who would _kill_ for a huge celebration.

Clearly, he had been wrong about that – hadn’t known his brother as well as he thought he did. Of course he would have to change for _Max_ as well. Because even though the younger boy wasn’t aware of it yet, not in the same way that Isabelle and Jace were, he _was_ willing to change when it came to his siblings. He was willing to throw a party and smile at his guests and drink and dance, just to make his family happy.

So, he planned.

He asked Isabelle to make a guest list and asked Jace to find a venue. He told his parents that they were going to have a ‘sibling night’ and refused to be offended when they asked him if he was sure about it. He wasn’t, of course he wasn’t, but he was going to do it anyways.

And when the night came, he put on his best clothes, smoothed out his features, and walked out to face the music.

He didn’t even bother saying hello to the people that had already arrived – that was _their fault_ for getting there early – and instead headed straight for Max, who was looking around in awe, as though he still couldn’t quite believe that this was all for _Alec’s_ birthday party.

“Did Izzy and Jace do this?”

The question hurt just as much as the statement that had started the entire affair did. Raziel, was that what _everyone_ thought? That Jace and Izzy had forced him to throw a birthday party? That he had nothing to do with the whole thing at all?

He shouldn’t have been hurt by that revelation, but he _was_ . Because he was _trying_ , goddamnit. He was trying to be more like his siblings, to be less of a downer, to go out more and be a bit more of a… a normal young adult, or whatever it was that his siblings – and parents, and friends – wanted him to be.

“They helped,” he answered with a poorly-concealed grimace. “But I came up with the idea. I thought it would be… good, to try something new for my birthday. After all, if Izzy and Jace get a birthday party, then why shouldn’t I?”

For the hundredth time in his life, Alec reminded himself that this was only a necessary evil. Max’s joyful grin was worth it – it wasn’t, but maybe if Alec kept telling himself that it was, he would end up believing it – so the older shadowhunter didn’t give in to the urge to run out of the room.

As soon as Max left him alone, however, he made his way to the closest wall and slumped against it tiredly, blinking back tears that had sprung up out of _nowhere_. Why was he _crying_?

Maybe it was the stranger problem again; the crowd was thickening, and Alec could tell that his siblings hadn’t only invited people that _he_ knew – which made sense; the guest list would have been incredibly short if they had stuck to _his_ acquaintances. Or maybe it was Max’s inability to believe that _Alec_ had planned such an event. Or maybe it was the knowledge that his brother was _right_. He wasn’t made for things like these.

He could pretend as much as he wanted, but this wasn’t his scene. He had hated every second of the party so far, and he would probably hate every moment that was to come.

His siblings were scattered around the room, talking with people who could actually keep up with them and their social skills, and the dance floor was already filled to the brim with sweaty bodies. He could have gone to the bar for a drink, but he had never _actually_ learned how to enjoy alcohol, so he didn’t think that it would do him any good.

God, what was he trying to prove? He felt lost, confused, and even Max’s approval hadn’t been enough to make him feel like this party had been a good idea. It seemed that the more time passed, the harder it was for him to change, to become the brother that his siblings had always wished for.

His skin itched – it always did, in moments like these – and he was so _tired_ , but he didn’t know what he could do to make it better. He couldn’t just stop trying because that would only prove that he was as dull as his siblings claimed him to be. But he also couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He couldn’t keep hurting his mind and body and soul over and over again in the hopes that he would _finally_ be enough.

However, just as he was about to convince himself that going back to the way things were before was better, he spotted his siblings in the crowd. They looked so happy, so _free_ , and they were waving at him excitedly, gesturing towards the huge pile of presents waiting for him. He loved them so _much_ – so much that it hurt, most of the time – and they _wanted this_. They thought that this was good for him, that this was a good way of helping him grow out of his loneliness, and just like that, his determination crumbled.

He would just have to keep trying and show them that their efforts weren’t all for nothing.

* * *

  1. _Magnus_



“I’m sure it would make _Magnus_ happy.”

Alec stopped dead in his tracks. _Damn it_ , he thought to himself at Izzy’s words. She _knew_ – just like she knew that Alec was weak for his siblings – that he would do just about anything to please his boyfriend, even if it meant wearing clothes that would undoubtedly make him uncomfortable as soon as he put them on.

“What do you know that I don’t?” He asked his sister, stepping back into her bedroom cautiously. “Did Magnus say something about the way I dress? Does he think it’s too boring?”

He had hoped that they were past their communication issues, but they clearly weren’t if his boyfriend couldn’t even tell him that he had a problem with Alec’s fashion choices. Raziel, did Magnus really think that he had to go to _Izzy_ to talk about those sorts of things? Did he not think that Alec would agree to try on whatever outfit he had in mind?

“Not precisely,” his sister admitted. “But he _did_ complain about the lack of colour in your wardrobe and the constant presence of your sturdy shadowhunter gear.”

And okay, that wasn’t exactly new. Magnus _had_ told him that he enjoyed seeing Alec in different colours and in outfits that weren’t meant for work, but the younger man hadn’t thought that his lack of fashion sense actually _bothered_ his boyfriend. Did Magnus think that Alec looked too dull? And why hadn’t Alec noticed?

He didn’t want to embarrass Magnus; didn’t want other people to look at him and think that he was dating someone who didn’t deserve him, not that Alec particularly disagreed with that assessment since he didn’t think that _anyone_ was good enough for Magnus. Was that what other people saw when they looked at Magnus and him together? A fashionable warlock and his boring, practical, shadowhunter boyfriend? And did it matter?

Izzy talked about it like Magnus and she had had multiple conversations about the topic, so perhaps he should just… Make an effort. He had changed for his siblings before, so why not for the man he loved?

“Do you have any suggestions?”

His sister squealed excitedly and Alec – as always, in these situations – ignored the way his gut clenched painfully at the thought of having to _change_ in order to please the people he cared about. Isabelle rushed into his bedroom and pulled out clothes that he had never worn, and that were probably a courtesy of his sister herself, and he held back an instinctive flinch as she thrust them towards him.

His first thought was that they were too bright. The dress shirt Izzy had chosen was sky blue, and the pants were _patterned_ – sure, they were mostly black, and the white swirls were almost invisible, but _still_. His second thought was that they were too tight; as soon as he put them on he felt constricted and uncomfortable.

But Izzy looked delighted, and she insisted that Magnus would _love it_ , so he didn’t protest. Sure, he didn’t feel like himself – after all, this wasn’t _him_ , wasn’t something that he had chosen or wanted for himself – but if it made Magnus happy… It was just another necessary evil in a very long list of changes.

That didn’t mean that he was completely okay with the outfit, or with letting Izzy do his make-up, because that would be taking it a step too far. Instead, he hurried out of the Institute and tried to ignore his fellow shadowhunters’ stares as they took in his attire for the evening. _This_ was why he didn’t do things like this; he didn’t _want_ to be looked at in that way. He didn’t want people to tell him that he looked ‘so much better’ in colour, that the blue ‘really made his eyes pop’ or that he should ‘try this more often’.

He _knew_ that he was a very monotonous person; he didn’t need other people to point it out for him. The only reason he was even trying to change was Magnus, his beautiful, wonderful, understanding boyfriend, who might want someone a little less… _muted_ as a partner.

And when Magnus looked him up and down approvingly half an hour later, Alec was _almost_ convinced that the change had been worth it.

“You look quite dashing tonight, darling,” his boyfriend purred. “Are we celebrating something?”

“No, no,” Alec blushed. “I just wanted to try something different.”

Something in his tone must have given him away though, because Magnus stared at him worriedly for a moment before shaking his head fondly and taking his hand. They walked to their favourite restaurant in relative silence, which might have been because Alec was too busy worrying about his looks to focus on whatever Magnus was telling him.

Usually he dismissed the mundanes’ curious gazes as the typical hesitancy over same-sex couples, but for the first time, he wondered if they were looking at _him_. Could they see how uncomfortable he was? Could they tell that he was a liar, hiding behind colours that didn’t belong to him? Did they pity Magnus, the magical, ethereal being who had to deal with _him_ , a man who couldn’t even wear blue without feeling like his soul was being put on display.

“Are you alright, Alexander?” Magnus asked as they entered the restaurant, and his voice was so concerned that Alec almost gave in and admitted that the clothes he was wearing made him want to crawl out of his skin. But then he remembered Magnus’ appreciative gaze and the smile on his face as he complimented Alec’s outfit, and he just… couldn’t.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Alec answered softly, squeezing the warlock’s hand reassuringly. “I just have a lot on my mind today.”

Magnus looked unconvinced and uncertain, but clearly understood that Alec wasn’t going to tell him what was wrong and decided to talk about his current clients instead. The familiar topic made Alec relax minutely, and he let himself forget about how _wrong_ he felt for a few minutes.

And then, their usual waitress made a comment about Alec’s shirt, and the shadowhunter was spiralling again. She hadn’t said anything _rude_ , of course – insulting the customer was never a good idea – but it still rubbed Alec the wrong way. She had never said anything about his outfits _before_.

Suddenly, he felt like everything was _too much_. Magnus was speaking enthusiastically, gesturing wildly as he always did, but Alec could barely see him through the haze of his mind. He should have never worn the shirt, not when it made him feel like an imposter. He should have refused to let Izzy dress him up. He should have known better than to step out of his comfort zone. He should have known better than to try and _change_ – it had never worked in the past, so why should this time have been any different?

“Darling, are you sure that you’re alright?”

He wasn’t sure about anything at the moment, but he couldn’t exactly tell _Magnus_ that. Magnus, who had tried his best to be better for Alec, even though he was already perfect as he was. Magnus, who had dealt with annoying shadowhunters and demanding siblings and boring meetings and ichor all over his carpets.

If Magnus wanted him to pay attention to his clothes then he would, and he certainly wouldn’t let his boyfriend think that it was bothering him. Not when it obviously made him so happy to see Alec wearing something other than his standard outfits.

“I’m fine, Magnus, just a bit tired.”

And when his amazing, warlock boyfriend sighed sympathetically and asked him if there was anything he could do to make things easier, if he wanted to go back to the loft earlier than planned, Alec knew that he had made the right choice. Magnus always did _so much_ for him.

He could change a tiny part of himself for the man that he loved.

* * *

_\+ 1_

“Alexander, I’m home!”

Alec smiled at the sound of his husband’s voice. Even after a year of being married to Magnus, he couldn’t quite believe that he was going to live with the man _forever_. He couldn’t imagine his life without the colourful warlock who swept him off his feet and constantly made him feel like he finally belonged somewhere.

When Magnus stepped into the living room, Alec’s grin widened. His husband looked as beautiful as always, glittering in the moonlight, his cat eyes crinkled happily, and Alec felt _so lucky_.

Here he was, a twenty-something shadowhunter who barely ever left their home except to work, who preferred nights in to nightclubs, who wore black almost all of the time, who didn’t like the large gatherings that his boyfriend so adored, here _he_ was, being loved by someone like _Magnus_. Not a single day went by when Alec didn’t wonder how he had gotten so lucky.

“What are you thinking about, darling?”

“You,” he answered as bluntly as ever. “And how lucky I am to have you in my life. Sometimes, I wonder if you even _know_ how much you mean to me, if you know how much you’ve done for me.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate this little declaration of love,” Magnus murmured amusedly. “But what brought this on?”

Alec opened his mouth then closed it again, unsure if he would ever be able to put his thoughts into words the way that Magnus did. He wasn’t the kind of person who could just rant and make grand speeches casually. He was a man of action, not of words, so moments like these were always the hardest for him.

He _wanted –_ oh how he _wanted –_ Magnus to know how much he loved him, but he didn’t know if anything he said would ever hold a candle to Magnus’ beauty and kindness and radiance.

“You just…” He started softly. “You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, Magnus. You sparkle and shine like no one else, and you’re so at ease in this world that I sometimes wonder if you’re the one who _created_ it. You draw people in like a flame, and you love it. Gods, Magnus, everything about you screams perfection, and here I am, with my ratty sweatshirts, poor taste in fashion, social anxiety and all those little insecurities that I _know_ you’ve been trying to fix, and you _still_ love me. You look at me like I’m worth something, and for the first time in my life, I feel like maybe… Maybe I don’t have to change to be loved.”

Magnus’ eyes softened infinitely, and Alec blushed at the care and devotion that he saw reflected in his husband’s gaze. Even after all this time, Alec couldn’t hide his pleasure at being cared for and looked after so obviously.

“ _Alexander_ ,” the warlock whispered. “Angel, do you have any idea what you do to me? Here you are, calling me perfect without realising that it’s your imperfections that make me love you even more. I _adore_ your horrible sweatshirts, even though you’ll never hear me say that again, and I like our nights in almost as much as I love our nights out. You have no idea how wonderful you are, darling, and I hope that someday you’ll look at yourself in the mirror and see even a _fraction_ of the man I do, because he’s pretty damn amazing.”

There were tears in Alec’s eyes by the end of the man’s speech, and that was _unfair_ , because there Magnus went again, proving that he could sweep his husband off his feet with a few loving words. And since he knew that he could never say anything that would match the intensity and beauty of Magnus’ language, he settled for what _he_ knew best.

Leaning over slowly, he pressed his lips against Magnus’, humming happily as his husband responded eagerly, letting their mouths slide together in a careful love confession. When the two of them parted, Alec was glad to see that Magnus’ pupils were blown wide and that there was a small, satisfied smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he murmured, stroking his husband’s cheek gently. “For being here for me, and for loving me, and for taking care of me as best as you can. Before you… Before you, I was always so uncertain, so sure that I had to be _better_ , more like my siblings or more like my parents or more like _you_ , but you just… you made me realise that I don’t have to change _anything_.”

Because finally – _finally_ – after years of trying to convince himself that _change was a necessary evil_ , he had learned that the statement wasn’t true at all. His siblings still loved him, even though he had never managed to enjoy clubbing and dancing and drinking the way they did. His parents still loved him, even though he had ended up with a husband rather than a wife. Sure, his father was still a bit awkward at times, but he was making an honest effort, and that was all Alec could ask for.

And most importantly, _Magnus_ still loved him, even though the two of them couldn’t be more different if they tried. He loved him, flaws included, at his best and at his worst, and that was more than Alec had ever dreamed of having. When he was with his husband, Alec didn’t have to change a thing. Magnus didn’t care about his clothes or his social anxiety or his need to be _alone_ sometimes. He just took it all in stride and made Alec feel like he was the most wonderful person in the world, even though they both knew that he _really_ wasn’t.

“And do you know the best part is?” Alec added softly, gazing at Magnus lovingly. His smile widened when his husband only shook his head dazedly – he _adored_ making Magnus speechless. “Even though you’ve never asked me to be anything other than myself, you _have_ changed me. Every day I wake up, and I know that I’m a better man because I have you by my side.”

“ _Alexander_ ,” his name sounded like a prayer out of Magnus’ lips. Alec didn’t think that he would ever tire of hearing it said like that. “People who think that you don’t have a way with words are _idiots_. You never cease to amaze me, darling.”

“In good ways, I hope,” Alec grinned, the familiar phrase slipping out comfortingly.

“The _best_ ways,” Magnus whispered. “I doubt that you’ll ever stop surprising me. You’re truly something else, Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane.”

“Hmm, I get it from my husband, Mister Lightwood-Bane,” Alec chuckled, pressing his lips to Magnus’ again and shamelessly deepening their light kisses.

Lying there with his husband in his arms, their hands exploring each other’s bodies, their souls entwined, Alec realised that even if he didn’t have to change, he _would_ , over and over again, if it meant that he got to love this beautiful man forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you to @AceOnIce for being a wonderful beta and helping me make this fic as good as possible. This was my first attempt at a 5+1 fic and I actually quite enjoyed writing it, so who knows what I might come up with in the future! 
> 
> Love, Julie.
> 
> (find me on tumblr @hopesilverheart)


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